


Millinery and Rope

by Melkur_Mistress



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Fluff, Hats, Humor, It's goes from a hat shop to a threesome, M/M, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 13:51:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20047108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melkur_Mistress/pseuds/Melkur_Mistress
Summary: Post colony ship. Missy lives, as always. She goes to the 1800's to get a new hat, bumps into her past self. Humour and bickering in a hat shop, then it turns to BDSM and a threesome. Chapter 1: humour. Chapter 2: porn. It's a wild ride, come for the humour, stay for the porn.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nostaIgia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostaIgia/gifts).

> chapter 1 is G rated humor and chapter 2 is M rated smut. What can I say??

Missy’s eyes flew open, the paralysing effect of the shielding in her corset decreasing enough that she could finally move. Groaning, she shifted slightly, her hand slipping under her jacket clumsily, her coordination not having caught up with her waking state. Finally locating a small button on the centre of her belt, she pressed and instantly felt herself stabilise. With a sigh, she rolled over, her hand instantly moving to her back in annoyance at the damage caused to her jacket by the laser blast. 

Catching sight of her umbrella, she grabbed it and used it to stand, looking dismayed at the damaged fabric as she straightened up, testing her back and relieved to feel no serious damage. Glancing around the charred land she felt a flash of regret and dismay. She pulled out her lipstick and popped off the lid, feeling for a small button, imperceptible to anyone else, and pressed, the device grew warm as it operated but failed to light.

“No life signs on this floor then. _Oh Doctor,_ what have you gone and done now?”

With a sigh, she pressed the base of her lipstick and waited. In moments a reassuring sound filled the air around the desolate land as her TARDIS began to materialise. She had never seen a more welcome sight as the doors of the red phone box opened allowing her to walk straight inside. She glanced around the room, feeling at home with the warmth of the purple roundels and all of her familiar things.

“Left you for a bit long there didn't I? That why you acted all naughty and didn’t use the chameleon circuit? I expected a tree. Sorry. Big disaster, _ and _ I lost a hat.”

She flopped down on the only chair in her console room and took in the familiar sounds all around her, reminding her that she was home after almost a hundred years. She stared ahead of her, the stark contrast between the sounds of home and the silence of the vault that she had grown so accustomed to, were quite startling. 

“Honey take me somewhere, I don't want to be alone with my thoughts. This all went so horribly wrong. I need the finest milliner you can locate, I deserve a treat.”

She sighed, her thoughts turning to the Doctor as her TARDIS obeyed her wishes and selected an appropriate destination.

_Later, she walked slowly through the cobbled streets of 1886 London, a duplicate coat and a new umbrella made her feel somewhat renewed, but the sense of loss that she felt was simply weighing her down. _

She wouldn't dwell on the Doctor like this, he had left her for dead before, hadn't he? She sighed, realising she couldn't lie to herself one little bit. She had to know if he was OK - back at the university, sipping tea and marking essays..... and assuming she had walked away from him. 

The thought caused a sudden flash of emotion and she realised her eyes had filled with tears. Focusing her gaze on the shop windows, to avoid the stares of passersby, she was oblivious to the person coming the other way until she collided with him. 

She cursed and tried to walk around the man in front of her, an instant flash of anger when he blocked her from walking past him. She looked up, steeling herself for an argument and froze, staring into the eyes of her past self.

She glanced him up and down; the same clothes, the same face. She reached her hand out, stepping closer as she felt around his coat for a tear. He merely watched her curiously, letting her process the situation as her fingers grasped the damaged material of his favourite coat, sharply. In an instant she gasped and stepped back, her hand shaking as she stared at the blood on her fingers.

“Hi sis,” he said, a smile laced with an undercurrent of pain, given her probing around the site of his wound.

“You’re supposed to be me - I was very precise,” she said, shock throwing her off her attempts to compose herself, fast.

“And you're supposed to be dead,” he said with a shrug.

“And_ that _was rude and idiotic. Why kill yourself?”

“_Why _? You have to ask?” he said, sounding almost offended that she would even ask.

“Yes, _ why_?”

“You let him lock you up like a pet, then you tried to kill me and go off to die by his side. Missy. _ Really_?”

“Yes! Really!” she said, full of indignation.

“Why did we both end up here?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I suppose my TARDIS remembered I'd left my hat on that ship and wanted to drop me at the shops?”

“_Shopping? _ Where are we? This looks like hell,” he said. “Maybe we did die this time.”

Missy laughed and took his arm, propelling him on with her as she scanned the shop fronts.

“Well, hell felt like where we were headed back there, but no dear, this is the late 1800’s, London, Earth. Poor mortality rates, but wonderful dress sense, especially among the upper classes.”

“Yeah, like I said - hell,” he repeated, rolling his eyes. "Why did I end up here?"

"Ah..that might be me - you could have got snared with my recall device if you happened to be close by - or...yours just likes me better!"

The Master rolled his eyes and bit back the flurry of comments he wanted to throw back at her, recognising that she was baiting him.

“Oh look at this, perfect!

“You are not, _ta__king me shopping, _” he said, disgusted at the mere thought as he stared at her.

"Oh lighten up, you should be excited! It's a preview!"

The Master grimaced as she laughed, and pulled him inside. He looked around the shop, bemused as he took in the mannequins wearing elaborate hats.

“I suppose they sell umbrellas here too? Lose yours did you?”

“The fabric was ruined - I did wake in a burnt out wasteland - thank_ you_ very much, I have other umbrella’s though, but no, they don't sell umbrellas here, don’t be ridiculous.”

“_I _didn’t turn it into a burnt out wasteland, I didn’t think twice - I was ready to leave with you.”

“_You started it with the Cyberman._ You shouldn't have shot me.”

“_You started it first._ Maybe you shouldn't have stabbed me - why don’t they sell umbrellas?”

“Dearest, it’s 1887,” she said, casting him a patronising smile.

“And?”

“And this fine establishment is a milliner, for umbrellas, we go to a wonderful umbrella maker - Fox are my favourite. They’ve been in business for two years at this point. Just starting to produce the very best mourning umbrellas.”

“What the hell is a mourning umbrella?”

“It’s_ pretty_, now either help me by lavishing me with compliments or sit down and occupy yourself somehow while I select a new hat.”

“Why do you even need a new hat?”

“Shush now, I’m making important decisions dearest.”

The Master shook his head and watched her as she tried on hat after hat, until finally she made a selection, and then had to wait a further forty minutes while they prepared it. He stared at it as she clapped her hands in delight at the arrangement of feathers and foliage.

“Why did that take that long?”

“Feather sculpting is an art form,” she said happily.

Missy handed something to the milliner, who smiled and thanked her profusely as she carefully positioned and secured the hat using a multitude of hair pins that she pulled from her pocket.

“Perfect!”

As they finally left the store, he turned to her in disgust.

“You paid a shopkeeper_ money_? Why didn’t you just steal it or hypnotise them?”

“How uncouth of you. I appreciate the art form of millinery, so I paid in their local currency. Why does it trouble you?”

“Because...were not common_ humans_ Missy, we don't need to obtain currency and _ pay for things_.”

“Art deserves appreciation. Now, I do have plenty of umbrellas, all soniced up and ready, so only one thing left to do,” she smiled at him knowingly.

“You need new boots as well?”

“No you idiot, we need to find the Doctor.”

“We don't need the Doctor.”

Missy burst into laughter, over dramatically clutching her stomach as she continued laughing to the point of doubling over and gasping for breath while her past self stood with an exasperated expression and waited for her to gather herself.

“Are you finished?”

“Yeah, probably,” she said, straightening up with a giggle. “We can’t not know - I hope he regenerated, we can’t let him die.”

“Course we can’t. Come on then lady version,” he said, and then suddenly stopped and let out a shout as she poked him hard, directly in the site of the healing stab wound she had gifted him. 

“Call me that again again and you_ will _regenerate next time.”

The Master held his hands up in mock defence. 

“Fine, point taken. We should...check on him, it’s good to be a step ahead,” he said, doing his best not to grimace from the pain she had just inflicted on him.

“A step ahead - yep. That's why we're doing it. No other reason,” she said, amused at his efforts to hide his pain from her.

“None at all. Your TARDIS or mine?”

“Yours, I can get home with a teleport, now, let’s track his timeline and find him.”

It took only hours - hours of bickering and annoying each other until finally they located the Doctor, regeneration energy seeming to leak across the cosmos lie a trail of breadcrumbs just for them.

“We should visit, he will change soon. He’s fighting it.”

“Why not - to gloat of course.”

Missy rolled her eyes.

“Oh _please_, stop lying to yourself, you want him just as you always have done and always will. Let’s go see our dear Doctor one last time before he changes.”

They parked right next door, both then dressed immaculately once again, the Master owning just as many duplicates of his favourite coast as Missy did. He turned to her and brushed some barely noticeable dust from her shoulder before turning his attention to the Doctor's TARDIS and pushing the door open.

Missy straightened her hat and picked a speck of fluff from the Master's coat collar before peering inside.

"Honey?" she called, stepping inside.

"We're home!" he added, smirking.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is smut heavy with BDSM and it ends fluffy, the rating is higher than the first chapter, but so the whole fic is an M.

Their entrance didn't quite work as planned, given that they both caught sight of his unconscious form on the console room floor. Missy went straight to him, the Master only a fraction of a second behind her as they both ran to his side, but given that her back was turned, he decided to pretend to be disgusted with her eagerness to check on him. Missy ignored the silly game he was playing, and badgered him to help her. They quickly relocated him to a room the Master found after the TARDIS quite stubbornly locked him out of almost every room he attempted to access. He finally located a room with a large comfortable sofa and little else. 

_He decided to make some improvements._

Missy sat beside the Doctor on the sofa and stroked the Doctor’s face gently, without looking away from the Doctor, she addressed her past self.

“He’s not going to last much longer in this body - I realised this even before that stupid ship ruined everything.”

“Let’s help him go out with a bang then,” he said.

“Oh please, do you have to be so crass,” she said, finally meeting his eye as she glared at him.

“Yes, I do. It amuses me,” he said.

“Well it bores me, so stop,” she said.

“Oh well then if you command it, I must obey,” he said sarcastically.

“Oh do shut up, he’s hardly in any shape for whatever it is running though your mind right now.”

He paused, deep in thought, and let his gaze run brazenly over his future self.

“Yeah you're probably right. _You_ are though,” he said.

“Oh you _wish,_” she said with a laugh.

“Why not?” he asked. “Why not just enjoy yourself, _with_ yourself. Who knows when we will get this opportunity again.”

Missy turned and watched him, realising there was nothing else they could do for the Doctor for a while and considered the possibilities.

“Ok.”

“Ok?” he asked, hating how excited and eager he looked at her response.

“Sure. Yes. We can’t just sit around and wait for him to regenerate - let’s play. I have conditions though.”

“Of course you do, what are they? I have nothing but respect for myself," he said, attempting to sound nothing but earnest.

“Yes, yes of course you do - we haven't just participated in the most self destructive paradox I’ve ever heard of or anything like_ that."_

“And we screwed up. Won't happen again, what are the conditions?”

Missy smiled a deliciously dark smile as she turned to him, leaning forward.

“The conditions are that you’ll pick up some toys, and you will truly…” her voice dropped to seductive whisper. “Dominate yourself.”

“Fuck,” was the only response he could possibly manage.

* * *

She was alone in the room when the Doctor woke, much to her surprise. She had turned sharply on hearing movement and froze when her eyes met the Doctor’s.

She waited but he did not speak, his silence making the room feel far larger than it’s proportions were set to.

“Doctor,” she whispered. “I didn’t expect you to wake for a while….”

The Doctor moved, in obvious discomfort and sat up slowly, staring at her, confused as his mind processed the situation.

“How did I get here?” he asked.

“Not a clue,” she said.

“You left with him, why are you here?”

“Well, that’s just rude,” she said, an attempt to lighten the situation.

“No, disappointing and devastating would be more accurate Missy,” he said, slowly standing.

She felt a flash of hurt at his words, not quite willing to explain the truth of the situation, and decided on a totally different course of action. 

She stood in front of him and gracefully got down to her knees, looking up at him and meeting his eyes, ensuring that her intention to submit to him was blindingly obvious - because sometimes he needed these things spelled out. When she saw the glimmer of acknowledgement in his eyes, she bowed her head and waited for him to make a decision.

She wanted him to be the first to break the silence, but the prolonged pause became far too frustrating and so she looked up at him, her eyes finding his instantly. He was simply watching her, not moving, not speaking, not giving her much of anything.

Missy sighed, “You are fighting the inevitable, so before you change, I’m offering myself to you here Doctor - on a plate. I put myself at your mercy - do with me as you will because I’ve been,” she paused, and her voice dropped to a whisper, “a _very_ bad girl.”

The Doctor stared at her, “Missy - this is just a game to you. Get up.”

She stayed right where she was and waited for him to continue, watching him quizzically. 

He turned his back to her for a second and then spun back around, his gaze intent and angry. She felt a rush of heat at the change, he wasn’t just a bit cross with her, he was really quite angry now that he was processing the entire situation.

“Why do you do this? Why? You walked away with him, and then you come here and offer yourself to me? Is that what you want? You want me to hurt you somehow? And why is that? So you can walk away again knowing how hard it would be for me to know I'd done you any harm.”

Missy stared at him, anger building at his insinuation, “you think I'm suggesting this as some kind of twisted plan to make you _feel bad_?”

“We don't do this. Those times, in the vault, I came to you, you took control and I submitted to you - we spent some time together - never enough time, and then you always told me to leave. Why are you intent on doing_ this_?”

“Maybe I’m not trying to derail and mess you up Doctor, maybe I want to give myself to you for a while. Maybe…” she threw out her arms in frustration and looked around the room, trying to find the words that would make him understand. “Maybe I want you to punish me. I've been _ever so bad_.”

The Doctor stooped down and grabbed her shoulders firmly enough to pull her up. She looked at him with obvious disappointment. 

“No, I'm not playing Missy.”

The Master stepped out from the shadows and felt a rush of power at the way the Doctor froze under his hardened gaze. He stood behind Missy and reached up, his hands covering the Doctors that still gripped her shoulders. He squeezed tightly enough that Missy would have the sensation of both of them.

He stood up against her back, his body almost moulding to hers as she looked at the Doctor, a flash of expectation in her eyes. 

The Master spoke in a low voice, his hot breath against her neck, “I've taken the liberty of making some upgrades to your TARDIS - added a playroom you may find quite useful. We've already established that Missy wants to play, but what about you Doctor - what is it you need?”

The Doctor went to move his hands away from Missy’s shoulders, but the Master tightened his grip, “no Doctor, this is how the game is going to play out. You're going to give her what she needs and I'm going to watch, maybe join in a little - maybe tell you what to do, because you need encouragement, so I’ll help you out here before we go and find the playroom.”

He loosened his grip on the Doctors hands but held tightly enough that he could guide him. His hands covering the Doctors, he slid them down her arms, and down to her waist. Moving to the back of her belt, he pressed his fingers against the clasp.

“Strip her Doctor,” he said, standing close behind her as he kissed her neck. “Let’s play.”

The Doctor didn’t utter a word, the only exchange a gentle brush against her mind as he sought her consent. He didn’t move a muscle until he felt a gentle wave of need from her, and her head dropped back against the shoulder of her past self, who stroked her hair and kissed her in response. They were the same person, this was wrong for so many reasons in the Doctor's mind, but still, with them both standing in front of him, wanting only to play with him - they were very hard to resist.

“Come on Doctor - we all want to play,” Missy said, almost draped against her past self.

He nodded, despite every part of his rational mind telling him that he shouldn't be doing it, and stepped closer, his hand behind her neck as he pushed her off of the Master's shoulder and held her firmly, his lips hesitantly meeting hers before gaining confidence and deepening his kiss hungrily. 

The Master smiled and gave a murmur of satisfaction as he began to speed things up, stripping Missy of layer and upon layer of clothes, folding each neatly and placing them beside her hat with the utmost care. 

She shivered once she was naked and standing with her past behind her and the Doctor in front, his hand tangled in her hair and his mouth hungrily kissing her until the Master edged forwards, holding her body between theirs as his mouth eagerly found the Doctor's, his tongue thrusting straight in. He took absolute delight in the moan the Doctor gave him when he broke the kiss and returned his lips to Missy's neck, kissing her before making her yelp as he sunk his teeth in.

The Master produced a rope from his expansive pocket and reached around, binding her wrists, leaving a long length that he handed to the Doctor. Her eyes were alive with excitement and she smiled at the Doctor, assuring him that there was no need to check - she was here for the ride.

The Doctor took the rope and hesitated, unsure what to do until the Master headed to the door and beckoned to him with a smile. The Doctor met Missy’s eyes and swallowed, turning and leading her along as he followed the Master to the new adaption to his TARDIS that had been created in his unconscious state. He dared not even look back, just aware that Missy was naked as he led her by her bound wrists was enough for his senses to overload as it was.

He was relieved that the room the Master had refurbished for these particular needs was close by, and he simply passed the rope to the Master once they were inside, feeling utterly over his head. He stood and watched, uncertain what to do, as the Master took her wrists firmly in his hands and raised her arms above her head, securely tying her wrists to a strategically placed beam. 

“You built me a dungeon?” the Doctor said, stunned.

“You were clearly lacking one,” the Master said as he circled Missy, his gaze roaming her body approvingly.

He idly ran a hand down her spine, stopping at her ass as he glanced casually at the Doctor.

“What do I do? In all these years, it’s always been you doing the restraining,” the Doctor asked, feeling very out of his depth. 

The Master removed his jacket and took a seat on the leather couch which gave him a perfect view of the room. He relaxed, his arms outstretched on the back of the couch as he took in the scene.

“Anything you want, that’s the point. You decide - pick a toy, and punish her.”

The Doctor walked over to the table where a number of implements were laid out - he visually inspected them and hesitantly reached out to touch a sinister looking whip. He caught the eager gleam in the Master’s eye as he picked it up, moving to stand in front of Missy. 

He held it in her line of sight, “this will cause you a lot of damage, this isn't a toy - I am not going to hurt you, especially not like this."

“Doctor, it’s entirely your choice what you do with me, I thought I made that clear,” she sighed.

She feared he was never going to so much as spank her, and she let her mind drift to the inevitable way that the roles would reverse and she would be owning him before long. She was a natural at taking control, but she wanted, just this once for him to know the feeling of power and ownership that dominating brought.

The Doctor put the whip back on the table and turned to face her, “I'm not going to do that to you.”

“Coward,”the Master said, as he quickly rose and grabbed the whip from the table, taking position a few paces behind her as pulled his arm back and before the Doctor could make a move to stop him, brought it down hard against her back. 

Missy screamed in a mixture of pain and delight and the Doctor stared as a light red welt appeared on her back. 

The Doctor stared, his eyes wide at the direction this was taking as the Master brought the whip down across the back of her thighs, spurred on by the way she pressed her forehead against her arm and fought to keep composed, letting out sounds of nothing but pleasure. Striking harder, he brought the whip down several times across her ass, his relentless whipping only ceased when the Doctor grabbed his arm, pulling him firmly away from her. 

The Master simply shrugged and laughed, resuming his position on the couch, interested to see the Doctors next move. 

The Doctor stepped in front of Missy and she raised her head to meet his eyes. He reached up to stroke her hair, his gaze concerned and attentive.

“You want this? This is how you want to play Missy? Because I wont hurt you.”

The Master laughed and the Doctor glared at him before turning his attention back to Missy, noting the intent look on her face. She was on edge - every nerve in her body heightened and waiting for the next move. She looked at him with expectation, and a hint of eagerness. It unsettled him that she enjoyed pain so much.

“Doctor, i'm enjoying this! Look, if it makes you feel better I can have a safe word?” Missy asked helpfully.

“Get her down from here,” the Doctor said, 

“She's _fine_, we like a bit of pain and I know how far to take myself - if it troubles you, pick something with less impact - try the leather strap,” the Master said.

“Oh please do, that looks delightful,” she said.

“It does?” the Doctor said.

“Look, you’re torturing her here by restraining her and not _doing_ anything to her. Just watch _me_ instead, the Master said, lowering the rope slightly, and grasping her hips, positioning her, with her back arched.

He grabbed the strap and began striking her ass in hard rhythmic blows, making her moan in pleasure and start to cry out as he struck harder and harder. The Doctor stepped around to the front, keeping a close watch on her reactions, prepared to step in and stop the Master at the slightest sign that she wanted it to stop.

She clearly didn't.

Missy merely grasped the rope, enjoying every moment. He was at a loss as to how to feel about it - seeing her in pain was not something he enjoyed, but her obvious arousal at being punished so harshly was giving her pleasure. He made a decision and grabbed the strap, taking the Master's wrists and pushing him against the wall, kissing him hard before releasing him. He felt delighted at himself at having thrown the Master - the look on his face utter surprise.

He stroked Missy's back with his hand, and then took the strap, sliding it against her ass. The way she moaned was the only encouragement he needed and he continued at the same pace as the Master, the strokes hard and with a frequency that appeared to allow the pain to build and reach an optimum peak before striking again.

He had never seen a more arousing sight as she strained against the rope, determined to stay in position as her past self moved to the front and began to kiss her passionately. She moaned into his mouth with each stroke and the Doctor placed his hand on her lower back, keeping her steady as he gave her a volley of hard blows, causing her to break her kiss and cry out. 

He stopped, his hand running soothingly over her ass as she let out a frustrated groan or protest, the Doctor reached up quickly, releasing her wrists and holding her hands tenderly, kissing the harsh red marks that the rope had left behind.

“OK Missy?” he whispered.

She smiled and launched herself at him, kissing him deeply until she murmured and stepped back.

“No, I am not OK, I am very, very aroused my dear Doctor. What _are_ we going to do about this?”

The Master laughed and Missy smiled as she placed her hands on his chest, pushing him slightly until he got the hint and walked backwards toward the couch. He stopped when the back of his legs hit the edge of the couch and he was forced to sit, looking up at the two Masters.

There was nothing holding him there, he could have got up and left, or attempted to haul them both out of there and evict the uninvited visitors, but as they stood in front of each other, the Master reaching up to pull some of her hair pins free enough that he could loosen her hair, and pull some strands free. It gave her an instant wildness which the Doctor found captivating. 

She put her hands on her past self's shoulders and eased his jacket off. The Doctor watched in absolute fascination as she began to undress him - the way she took the utmost care and reverence with his clothing was a mirror of his actions when he had stripped her earlier. Her hand quickly went to his belt, pulling it open and unbuttoning his trousers. The sound of his zip being pulled down felt far louder than it should to the Doctor. 

Missy's hands moved with familiarity and speed as she worked at removing his clothes, only stopping when he was left in just his pants. She ran her hand over his chest and smiled. 

“Miss this body?” he asked with interest.

She laughed, “oh sometimes, but this one is so much fun.”

They turned and stepped closer to him, the Master’s excitement clearly obvious with the way he strained against his tight black briefs.

They stalked toward him, and he had never felt so captivated as Missy bent down, unzipping his trousers. He eased himself up instinctively, removing them and waiting until her hands were on his pants, before repeating the action, and sitting back down. 

She placed her hands either side of his thighs, bent down and darted her tongue out, licking him teasingly. 

He moaned, his hand moving to her hair and stroking gently, almost in protest at the way the Master stepped behind and roughly gripped her hips thrusting his hand between her legs, his fingers probing her intimately. She moaned and sunk her mouth down, taking the Doctor in slowly.

The Doctor watched, his energy flagging, but his arousal not ebbing as the Master thrust himself deeply and began to take her hard and fast. Her fingers dug into the soft material of the couch and she made breathless sounds, causing vibrations around his cock that were almost too much to handle.

Missy could only move her hands to the Doctor's shoulders and hold on as the Master drew closer, pounding into her until they both, in an act that was both erotic and utterly fascinating, climaxed in perfect synchronisation, the Master's hand grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her head back firmly as they both came hard.

He gave a look of surprise, followed by amusement as the Doctor barely gave them time to come down and grasped his hand, forcing him to release the grip on Missy's hair. The Master watched as the Doctor stroked her head, soothing the pain from the hard pull to her hair that she had no objection to in the slightest.

Missy practically purred at the affection of the act and smiled, kissing him before dropping to her knees, tormenting him with her tongue before finally taking him in, her mouth a delicious tight warmth around his intolerable arousal. 

The Master watched in lazy intrigue, as he dropped down onto the couch beside the Doctor, his eyes firmly on his future self as she brought the Doctor quickly to the edge, waiting until he was very close before quickly sitting up, straddling his lap with her arms around his neck and sinking down onto him instead. 

He groaned at the sudden change of tactic and the overwhelming feeling of having two of the same person that he loved, at once, as the Master held the back of his head and kept him firmly in place, kissing him deeply. 

"Now you, Doctor, are going to be doing exactly what she tells you to - but only when she tells you, we would hate to have to punish you," he said with a smirk before resuming kissing the Doctor hungrily.

Missy held the Master’s hand as she neared the edge, riding the Doctor hard, and delighting in the way his hands moved to her breasts, squeezing gently. She gripped the Master's hand tightly, holding on until she could tell the Doctor was ready and she spoke in a low commanding voice, that reminded him that she was no longer the one being dominated, 

“Come for your mistress.”

As he cried out, she tumbled into a second orgasm along with the Doctor, crying out his name and pressing her forehead against his shoulder until she finally relaxed into a his arms. She eventually eased herself up, moving to sit sideways and practically melted into his hold. The Master sat as close he possibly could, draping her legs over his lap.

“Can we stay?” he asked the Doctor, his head now on his shoulder.

“I don't think that’s wise,” the Doctor said. "Two of you together - it would be rife with paradoxes."

“Yes, but think of all the delightful sex!” Missy exclaimed with a tired laugh.

“Don't you have world to end with him?” the Doctor said, regret lacing his words.

“Missy - he still doesn't know?” The Master asked.

“I am highly skilled with my mental barriers, nothing slipped,” she said.

“What don't I know?” the Doctor asked, warily.

“She didn’t leave with me, she got all _sentimental_ and wanted to die alongside you like some kind of loyal dog,” the Master said in distaste before yelping as she reached over and poked his now almost healed stab wound again.

The Master responded by lightly slapping anywhere he could reach from the angles they were both curled up with the Doctor, causing a gasp as he slapped the inside of her thigh.

“But you're here, with him,”the Doctor said, confused, ignoring the way they were irritating each other.

“Yes, I am. Funny story!” she began.

As the Doctor listened to the story of how they attempted to kill each other, he closed his eyes in dismay, deciding they had to separate the two Master's as soon as he had the will or inclination to move Missy from the very comfortable position she was currently in on his lap. The concept of them both staying with him was intriguing and he didn’t deny that to himself, but the consequences of two incarnations of the same person spending any length of time together concerned him greater than the demands of his more carnal needs.

He smiled as he placed a kiss on her head, his hand soothingly stroking the redness of her punished flesh. Yes, as soon as he was prepared to move, or maybe...in a few days.....he was taking her past self home, they didn’t need any more paradoxes, and maybe, just maybe, she would travel with him.

The Master was already forming plans on how to return to his TARDIS, contemplating stealing the Doctor's or at least some valuable components, when the Doctor sent a wave of amusement to him, not needing to hear his thoughts to know how his mind worked, and what he would be planning. Almost immediately, he switched his attentions to Missy and projected an image into her mind; laying side by side in tall red grass, the night sky above, them - filled with stars.

As she smiled in response, he considered that maybe, this time, they might finally fulfil that pact.


End file.
